


Malicious Intent

by iwriteangstonly



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwriteangstonly/pseuds/iwriteangstonly
Summary: In a desperate attempt to save himself, Virgil makes his life impossibly worse. Will he sacrifice his sanity or his life? Who will save him, if not himself?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Malicious Intent

Thomas knew something was off the second he woke up. He was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, and he was shaking slightly. His breaths were choppy and uneven, almost rhythmic with his wildly thrumming heart. Something was happening— something bad.  
His suspicions were only confirmed when he spotted Virgil sitting on the foot of his bed. His state was worse than that of Thomas’s. His shivers were violent, and every breath he took was a labored wheeze. Blood trickled down his chin from his lip, which he had chewed open. He looked up at Thomas with tears flooding his tortured eyes.   
Thomas flinched back upon seeing him. He was a dark side, he confessed to it and everything. He was the cause of the thoughts tearing through Thomas’s head. The cause of the sweat and the panic. He had come to scare him, to ruin his mind and stop him from living his life.   
“Thomas?” Virgil asked delicately. “Thomas, help,” he sniffled as his voice broke.  
Part of him was tempted to ignore Virgil, to lash out for his betrayal, but his emotions got the better of him. “Virge, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this?”   
“It’s too much—“ he sobbed, “Thomas, I can’t—“ his broken sobs continued as he tried to mutter an explanation. His breaths came in short gasps as the tears streamed mercilessly down his hollow cheeks.  
“Bud, slow down,” Thomas soothed as he crawled closer to the unstable side. “In for four— good— hold for seven— that’s okay, keep going— out for eight,” he whispered, pulling Virgil to his chest. He repeated the counts until Virgil could breathe, then he set him down gently on the mattress. “Virgil, what’s wrong? Why were you giving me a panic attack?” He inquired carefully.  
“I’m so sorry, Thomas. I really didn’t try to you have to believe me,” he pleaded once again on the brink of tears.  
“You told me you’re a dark side. Don’t you want to hurt me like you used to?”  
“No, that’s not—,” he fumbled, “I used to be. I’m with you guys now, I swear. I don’t want to hurt you.”  
Thomas evaluated him, and staring back at him was the most honest eyes he had ever seen. They were scared and vulnerable, completely void of malicious intent. An overwhelming guilt came over him. How could he judge Virgil for who he was in the past after all they had gone through. They sat in a fragile silence, the only sounds being their unsteady breaths and the faint sounds of the fan rotating slowly.  
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Thomas asked gingerly.  
“I don’t think I can. You’ll hate me, and I can’t handle that anymore.” He stares intently at a loose thread in the comforter while he picked at his nails.  
“Please, I just want to help you. I won’t hate you I promise,” he soothed, though a fragment of his heart wondered what it would take.  
“Both of the others are here now, and it’s bringing back some...” he trailed off, shame practically radiating from him, “urges,” he finished, eyes trained on the bedsheets. “They make me want to hurt you, to stop you from ever leaving the house. I resist them, but it’s so hard. I take it on myself and it hurts so bad.” Tears welled in his frightened eyes, and Thomas realized that this was the first time he had ever seen Virgil without makeup. He had sunken patches of purple under his bloodshot eyes. The lack of foundation displayed tear tracked porcelain skin, ready to shatter at any second. He looked so incredibly tired, and Thomas’s heart broke for him.  
“I‘m so sorry, Virge, I had no idea. Is there anything I can do?” He asked desperately, unable to sit idly by as Virgil suffered.  
“That’s actually why I’m here,” he started quietly, ”I want you to go to the doctor tomorrow and get anxiety meds. I can’t take this anymore, and they’ll help me. Neither of us has to suffer anymore.” He pleaded, finally meeting Thomas’s prying gaze.  
“Virge, are you sure about this? We don’t know how they’ll affect you.”   
“Plenty of people use them, and they don’t completely eliminate anxiety. Either way, I can’t keep living like this— please, Thomas.” He begged.  
“I’ll try them. Just once, and if they hurt you, I’ll stop right away. Deal?”  
“Deal,” he said with a relieved grin. “Thank you, Thomas.”  
“Virgil-- I need you to promise me something before I do this.”  
“What is it?”  
“You need to promise me you’ll stop me if it affects you badly. You need to stop me right away.” Thomas said with a stern intensity.  
“Yeah, I promise. Thanks,” he said before jokingly saluting Thomas and sinking down to his room.


End file.
